MUMBLE  LIFE, 


LI 


JL  S 


12,  T 


MY  UNCLE; 


OR, 


JOHNNY'S     BOX 


PUBLISHED  BY  PERMISSION  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 


PUBLISHED  BY 


PHILADELPHIA  CONFERENCE  TRACT  SOCIETY. 

AT  METHODIST  EPISCOPAL  BOOK  ROOMS, 
1018  ARCH  STREET,  PHILADA. 


NOTE  TO  THE  SECOND  SEEIES. 


THE  reader  may  rest  assured  these  narratives  are 
substantially  true,  as  many  persons  now  living  in  the 
neighborhood  can  testify.  The  names  mentioned  are 
real  names,  both  of  persons  and  places.  Some  of  them, 
as  in  the  former  case,  have  arisen  from  my  connection 
with  the  Chapel  for  the  Destitute. 

I  am  surprised  and  thankful  for  the  reception  given 
to  the  first  eleven  Tales,  now  constituting  the  First 
Volume — nearly  half  a  million  of  which  have  been 
sold  in  a  few  months — and  the  urgent  request  of  many 
friends  that  I  would  furnish  them  with  more,  induces 
me  again  to  dip  into  my  diary,  where  many  more  yet 
remain. 

I  am  a  tradesman,  and  make  no  pretensions  to  liter- 
ary ability.  If  He  whom  I  desire  to  serve  condescends 
to  use  me  as  a  medium  of  good  to  others,  my  earnest 
wish  will  be  realized.  To  Him  my  prayer  has  been, 
"HOLD  THOU  MY  EIGHT  HAND." 

J.  ASHWOETH. 
Rochdale,  1866. 


One  day  during  the  last  year,  I  received  the 
following  note  : — • 

"  Dear  Sir  :  It  is  with  a  trembling  heart  that  I  ask  to  see  you.  I  want  i» 
see  you  alone.  I  am  in  difficulties  and  trouble.  Would  you  be  my  friend, 
please  to  send  an  answer  by  bearer,  who  is  my  son.  I  do  hope  you  will  have 
pity  on  me.  " 

"  Tell  your  mother  that  I  am  in  my  office,  and 
she  may  see  me,  if  she  comes  soon,"  I  answered. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  woman  made  her  appear- 
ance, but  seemed  so  greatly  excited,  that,  to  give 
her  time  to  recover  herself,  I  turned  to  the  desk, 
and  resumed  my  work.  After  shedding  a  flood 
of  tears,  she  became  more  calm,  and  then  said: — • 

"  I  do  not  know  that  I  have  any  right  to  bring 
you  my  troubles,  but  I  am  so  miserable,  that  I  am 
afraid  I  shall  lose  my  reason,  if  I  do  not  tell  some 
one  who  can  advise  me  what  to  do.  Some  twelve 
months  since,  I  happened  to  say  to  a  neighbor 
that  I  wished  somebody  would  lend  me  half-a- 
crown,  when  she  replied, — 'Take  your  Sunday 
gown  to  my  Uncle's,  and  you  will  soon  get  your 
half-crown.'  ' 

"Who  is  your  Uncle  ?"  I  asked. 

"She  began  laughing  at  my  ignorance,  and 
told  me  that  my  'Uncle'  meant  the  pawn-shop, 
and  offered  to  take  the  gown  for  me.  I  foolishly 
consented,  and  from  that  day  to  this,  I  have  been 
in  fear  and  trouble,  for  I  have  had  nothing  but 
ladeing  and  teeming,  ladeing  and  teeming." 


2  MY  UNCLE  J 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  ladeing  and  teem- 
ing?" Tasked. 

"Why,  borrowing  to  p  =y  back  what  I  had  bor- 
rowed, and  borrowing  again  to  pay  those  I  had 
borrowed  from." 

"  What  have  you  in  the  pawnshop  now  ?"  I 
inquired. 

"  Well,  sir,  I  have  thirty  shillings'  worth  of  my 
own  and  other  folks'." 

"  But  you  surely  do  not  borrow  your  neigh- 
bors' gO'>ds  to  take  to  the  pawnshop,  do  you  ?" 

"  Yes;  I  have  a  neighbor's  shawl,  and  her  hus- 
band's coat.  They  want  them  for  Sunday,  and  I 
have  them  along  with  my  own  things  to  loose 
every  Saturday,  and  pawn  them  again  on  the 
Monday  morning,  to  pay  back  the  money  I  bor- 
rowed on  the  Saturday  to  loose  them  with.  I 
receive  thirty  shillings  when  I  take  them,  and 
pay  thirty  shillings  and  tenpence  halfpenny 
when  I  fetch  them  back." 

"  Then  you  are  paying  two  pounds  five  and 
sixpence  interest,  yearly,  for  the  loan  of  thirty 
shillings — nearly  two  hundred  per  cent.  How 
do  you  raise  the  money  ?  Does  some  one  lend 
you  the  whole  sum  ?" 

"  No.  I  get  three  shillings  here,  five  shillings 
there,  two  shillings  here,  and  two  shillings  some- 
where else  ;  and  I  am  many  times  glad  of  a  shil- 
ling to  make  up  with.  I  cannot  sleep  on  Friday 

93 


OR,  JOHNNY'S  BOX.  3 

night  for  scheming  how  I  must  raise  the  money 
for  the  Saturday." 

"  Does  your  husband  know  about  this  ?" 

"  No ;  but  I  am  afraid  he  will  find  it  out, 
though  part  of  it  has  been  done  to  keep  him  qui 
et.  He  is  one  of  those  sort  of  men  that,  how- 
ever little  wages  he  brings  home,  if  I  have  not 
good  meals  for  him,  I  get  nought  but  abuse,  or 
black  looks.  When  the  husband  drinks,  the 
wife  has  poor  putting  on.  But  if  I  once  get  out 
of  the  popshop,  he  shall  live  on  potatoes  and 
salt  before  I  will  go  in  again.  For  it  is  a  low, 
disgraceful  practice,  and  brings  nought  but  trou- 
ble with  it.  I  have  borrowed,  and  borrowed, 
till  I  am  ashamed  to  go  out  of  doors.  I  some- 
times pray  that  God  will  help  me,  but  I  cannot  see 
how  He  can  help  people  that  go  to  popshops." 

Believing  that  the  woman  had  been  thought- 
lessly led  into  what  she  truly  called  a  "dis- 
graceful practice,"  and  seeing  that  she  was  not 
yet  hardened  in  the  habit,  but  heartily  sick  of 
it,  and  had  not  lost  all  her  self-respect ;  know- 
ing, too,  that  she  was  trying  to  do  right,  and  to 
appear  respectable,  she  was  put  in  the  way  of 
getting  out  of  her  troubles. 

A  few  weeks  previous  to  the  visit  of  this  wo- 
man, a  friend  came  to  ask  if  I  could  lend  a  poor 
neighbor  nine  shillings,  to  help  her  out  of  a  dif- 
ficulty. 


4  MY  UNCLE  ; 

"  What  is  the  difficulty  ?'*  I  asked. 

"  I  will  go  and  tell  her  you  are  in,  and  she 
can  inform  you  herself,"  replied  my  friend. 

In  the  evening,  a  stout,  healthy -looking  wo- 
man, ^  'ith  a  bold-looking  face,  and  a  handker- 
chief on  her  head,  entered  my  room,  saying  she 
was  the  person  that  wanted  to  borrow  nine 
shillings. 

"  What  do  you  want  it  for,  Mrs.  ?" 

"  Well,  I  can  hardly  for  shame  to  tell  you,  but 
I  have  a  big  fine  lad  yon,  that  does  nought  but 
cry  every  Sunday,  because  he  cannot  go  to  the 
school.  I  have  had  him  crying  three  Sundays 
together,  and  I  am  frightened  he  will  run  away, 
as  his  sister  Betty  did." 

"  What  does  he  cry  every  Sunday  about  ?" 

"  Why,  he  is  very  fond  of  the  Sunday-school, 
and  is  really  a  fine  lad,  and  a  good  lad ;  but  I 
have  had  his  Sunday  clothes  in  the  pawn  for  a 
month,  and  I  want  you  to  help  me  to  get  them 
out,  for  I  know  you  are  fond  of  Sunday-schools." 

"  Why  did  his  sister  Betty,  that  you  men- 
tioned, run  away  from  home  ?'* 

"  Well,  the  truth  is,  she  was  as  fond  of  the 
Sunday-school  as  he  is,  and  took  very  good  care 
of  her  things,  and  always  liked  to  be  decent  like 
the  other  scholars ;  but  one  day  I  fastened  her 
best  frock,  thinking  I  could  get  it  out  again  be- 
fore Sunday,  but  I  could  not ;  and  when  I  saw 

100 


OR,  JOHNNY'S  BOX,  -5 

her  washing  herself,  and  getting  ready  for  the 
school,  I  had  no  heart  to  tell  her,  but  when  she 
went  to  the  box  and  could  find  nothing  but  her 
bonnet,  she  looked  straight  at  me,  and  then 
burst  out  crying.  I  cried,  too,  but  both  of  us 
crying  could  not  get  the  frock  out  of  pop  with- 
out brass.  That  Sunday  was  a  weary  day." 

"  Did  she  leave  home  for  that?" 

"  Not  exactly.  We  got  it  out  the  week  after, 
but  I  had  to  pawn  it  again ;  and  when  she 
found  it  .out  a  second  time,  she  cried,  but  did 
not  say  much.  But  when  she  fingered  it,  she 
bundled  it  up,  and  went  to  live  with  her  grand- 
mother, for  she  said  she  could  not  do  without 
her  Sunday-school.  And  yon  lad  is  just  like 
her;  I  am  expecting  he'll  be  off  too." 

"  Well,  Mrs..,  I  am  glad  you  have  two  such 
children,  but  I  am  deeply  grieved  with  your 
conduct  towards  them.  Thousands  of  children 
have  been  driven  to  desperation  and  ruin  by 
such  home  treatment.  But  for  the  boy's  sake, 
if  you  will  raise  part  of  the  money,  1  will  find 
you  the  remainder,  so  that  he  can  have  his 
clothes  by  Saturday." 

When  Johnny  heard  that  his  clothes  were 
going  to  be  liberated  he  was  very  glad.  On  the 
Saturday  noon  he  came  to  his  dinner,  but  found 
none.  He  looked  at  his  mother,  saying, — 

"  How  is  this,  mother  ?  Where  is  iny  dinner?" 

101 


6  MY  UNCLE  ; 

"Nay,  Johnny;  I  cannot  both  find  thee  a 
dinner  and  get  thy  clothes  home,  for  it  will 
take  every  farthing  I  have,"  she  replied. 

"  Well,  never  mind ;  I  had  rather  be  without 
dinner  and  have  my  clothes  to  go  to  the  Sun- 
day-school," he  answered.  And  away  he  went 
whistling  to  his  work  again,  without  dinner. 

That  night  Johnny  got  some  short,  strong 
boards,  and  made  a  box.  He  then  got  a  pad- 
lock, and  after  putting  his  clothes  into  the  box, 
he  made  it  fast,  saying, — 

"  Now,  mother,  if  you  do  pawn  them  again, 
you  shall  pawn  the  box,  too." 

In  the  same  month  in  which  these  two  mo- 
thers paid  me  these  visits,  I  had  a  third  appli- 
cation, much  more  painful  than  either  of  them. 
A  girl,  about  twelve  years  of  age,  with  blushing 
countenance,  came  to  say  that  her  mother  had 
sent  her  to  ask  me  if  I  would  get  her  clogs  new 
bottomed,  at  the  same  time  lifting  up  one  of  her 
feet  to  show  me  her  bare  toes.  I  gave  her  a 
note  to  the  clogger,  and  I  then  asked  her  if  she 
attended  the  Sunday-school.  In  a  moment 
tears  stood  in  her  eyes,  and  holding  the  slip  of 
paper  I  had  given  her  in  her  hand,  she  looked 
up,  with  a  face  of  innocent,  deep  distress,  and 
replied, — 

"  I  wanted  you  to  ask  me  that,  and  I  thought 
you  would.  But  what  do  you  think,  Mr.  Ash- 

102 


OR,  JOHNNY'S  BOX.  7 

worth  ?  My  mother  has  pawned  my  little  hat, 
my  frock,  and  my  shoes,  and  now  all  I  have  for 
Sunday  is  this  ragged  frock  and  these  broken 
clogs.  Oh,  how  I  have  cried  every  Sunday  since. 
I  used  to  be  so  glad  when  Sunday  came ;  but  now, 
I  do  not  want  it  to  come ;  for  when  I  see  other 
girls  so  nice,  going  to  school,  it  makes  me  cry 
more,  and  I  feel  I  would  give  anything  if  I  was 
like  them.  And  what  do  you  think  ? — but  you 
must  not  tell  her  that  I  have  told  you — my  mo- 
ther has  actually  pawned  little  brother  Johnny's 
only  breeches  for  sixpence,  and  he  had  to  lie  in 
bed  two  days,  crying  most  of -the  time;  and  then 
she  had  to  give  sevenpence  for  them  back,  and 
Johnny  was  not  for  taking  them  off  when  he 
went  to  bed,  for  fear  she  would  pawn  them 
again  when  he  was  asleep." 

I  said  nothing  to  the  child  about  her  mother, 
but  sent  my  visitor  to  inquire,  and  everything 
was  just  as  the  child  had  described. 

It  is  astonishing  what  a  degrading  influence 
the  habit  of  pawning  has  on  the  minds  of  those 
who  once  begin.  Self-respect,  and  the  finer  feel- 
ings of  the  soul  are  soon  destroyed.  Instead  of 
practising  economy,  and  trying  to  do  without 
many  foolish,  and  often  hurtful  indulgences,  they 
run  to  the  pawnbroker  at  every  turn,  sinking 
themselves  deeper  and  deeper  in  poverty  and  sor- 
row. It  is  a  well-known  fact  that  about  the  time 

103 


8  MY  UNCLE  ; 

of  cheap  trips,  the  three-balls  have  the  most  cus- 
tom. Foolish  finery,  only  fit  for  a  few  bright  days 
in  summer,  often  finds  its  way  to  the  pawnshop. 
At  one  of  these  places  there  were  over  fifty 
white  silk  bonnets  on  its  shelves  at  one  time, 
besides  a  great  number  of  light  muslin  dresses. 

There  are  a  number  of  travelling  drapers, 
called  "  Scotchmen,"  who  have  had  more  to  do 
in  encouraging  this  objectionable  custom  than 
they  will  be  willing  to  admit.  I  have  seen 
these  "Scotchmen"  enter  the  homes  of  poor 
people,  spread  out  the  tempting  finery,  and, 
with  all  their  eloquence,  try  to  induce  families 
to  purchase,  promising  long  credit,  or  to  take 
payment  in  small  amounts.  Hundreds  and 
thousands  have  been  induced  to  buy  beyond 
their  means,  and  many  such,  when  walking  out, 
dressed  in  full  feather,  have  called  forth  such 
observations  as, — 

"  There  she  goes !  f  Scotchmen '  again  !  But 
popshop  will  come  next." 

One  of  these  "  Scotchmen  "  visited  a  village 
called  Brookside,  near  Spotland,  where  he  was 
trying  to  push  his  ribbons,  shawls,  gowns,  &c., 
and  succeeded  beyond  his  expectation .  He  found 
long  credit,  or  a-shilling-a-week,  customers  in 
almost  every  house,  but  when  he  returned  in  a 
fortnight  to  receive  payment,  he  saw  what  he 
had  not  before  noticed,  that  nearly  all  the  doors 

104 


OR,  JOHNNY'S  BOX.  9 

opened  in  a  very  primitive  way  ; — instead  of  by 
latches,  they  opened  by  pulling  at  a  string, 
called  a  "sneck,"  and  when  it  was  the  "  Scotch- 
man's" day,  the  snecks  were  all  palled  in.  He 
knocked  repeatedly  at  some  doors,  and  kicked 
at  others,  but  -all  was  silent.  He  went  away, 
muttering,  "  The  rogues  have  puUed  in  'the 
snecks,  but  I  will  stnd  them  the  bailiffs." 

"Scotchmen's  "  packs  and  blazing  drapers' 
shop  windows  have  sent  thousands  of  weak- 
minded  women  to  the  pawnshop.  Most  of  those 
women  who  pulled  in  the  sneck  had  pawned 
their  gown  pieces  ;  for  it  is  a  fact  that  hundreds 
of  new  gown  pieces  are  pawned  to  raise  part 
of  the  money  to  pay  for  them,  and  scores  of 
them  are  never  redeemed,  but  pass  into  other 
hands. 

One  Sunday  morning  two  of  my  neighbors 
were  leaning  against  a  flag-fence,  smoking  their 
short  pipes,  and  in  their  dirty  shirts.  They 
were  talking  of  home  matters.  One  of  them 
remarked  to  the  other, — 

"  Our  new  neighbor  has  got  a  nice,  smart 
wife,  Philip ;  have  you  seen  her  ?" 

"Yes,  George;  and  she  makes  some  of  our 
wives  look  weary  sluts,  though  her  husband 
gets  no  more  wages  than  we  do." 

"  And  have  you  seen  their  children,  how  neat 
and  clean  they  look?" 

105 


10  MY  UNCLE ; 

"Yes;  ami  I  confess  I  am  ashamed  when  I 
see  them  near  mine,  there  is  such  a  difference  " 

"Do  you  think  that  woman  ever  goes  to  my 
'  Uncle's  ?' " 

"Nay,  there  is  nought  of  the  popshop  about 
yon  family.  You  will  see  then!  all  going  to 
church  directly ;  and  church  and  chapel-going 
people  have  little  to  do  with  my  'Uncle.'  But 
I  think  that  question  is  rather  too  bad,  George." 

George  burst  out  laughing,  for  he  knew  that 
Philip's  wife  was  in  the  habit  of  going  to  her 
"Uncle's."  This  conversation  took  place  near 
a  row  of  dirty  cottages,  respecting  a  neighbor 
who  had  just  come  to  reside  amongst  them. 
This  new  tenant  had  produced  quite  a.  sensa- 
tion, and  had  become  the  subject  of  conversa- 
tion among  the  women  and  children,  as  well  as 
the  men.  When  they  went  to  reside  in  Long 
Row  (as  the  block  of  buildings  was  called), 
every  house  was  a  miserable,  wretched-looking 
dwelling  ; — few  window-blinds,  no  curtains,  no 
flower-pots,  or  anything  that  indicated  taste  or 
comfort ;  but  there  were  plenty  of  broken  win- 
dows, broken  pots,  dirty  door- steps,  dirty  wo- 
men, dirty  children,  and  swilling-tubs.  What 
business  poor  people  have  with  swilling-tubs,  I 
cannot  tell.  Mr.  Fenton,  of  Bamford  Hall,  a 
man  supposed  to  be  worth  two  hundred  thou- 
sand pounds,  was  once  passing  a  row  of  cottages 

106 


OR,  JOHNNY'S  BOX.  11 

belonging  to  him,  and,  seeing  a  swilling-tub,  he 
lifted  the  top  off,  and,  with  his  walking-stick, 
began  stirring  up  the  contents,  consisting  of 
pieces  of  currant-pudding,  pie-crusts,  tea-cakes, 
mutton-chops,  and  slices  of  bread.  Calling  out 
the  woman  who  belonged  to  the  tub,  he  asked , 
her  if  all  that  had  ( ome  out  of  her  house. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  was  the  reply,  "  I  sell  them  to  a 
neighbor  for  her  pigs." 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Fenton,  "  there  is  more 
waste  in  that  tub  than  there  has  been  in  my 
house  these  forty  years.  You  are  as  sure  to 
come  to  poverty  as  you  are  born." 

The  middle  house  in  the  Long  Row,  occupied 
by  the  new  tenant,  soon  began  to  shame  all  the 
rest.  The  white  window-blind,  the  neat  mus- 
lin curtain,  the  couple  of  flower- pots,  containing 
a  geranium  and  fuschia,  and  the  clean  door-step, 
presented  a  wide  contrast  to  their  dingy  looking 
neighbors,  and  caused  no  small  amount  of  gos- 
sip. If  the  door  was  left  open,  there  was  an 
excuse  for  passing  by,  to  have  a  peep  inside ; 
for  some  contended  it  was  all  outside  show ;  but 
they  found  that  the  inside  corresponded  with 
the  out. 

"  There  is  a  vast  difference  between  some 
women  and  others  in  this  row.  I  have  five 
shillings  a  week  more  than  the  man  who  has 
come  to  live  in  the  middle  house,  yet  his  cottage 


12  MY  UNCLE  ' 

is  like  a  little  palace,  and  mine  is  like  a  pig-cote. 
I  wish  I  had  such  a  wife." 

The  woman  to  whom  this  was  spoken  made 
no  reply,  for  she  had  often  been  scolded  by  her 
husband  for  not  being  more  tidy.  But  the  ex- 
ample  set  by  the  middle  house  had  done  more 
to  impress  her  than  all  the  scolding  she  had  re- 
ceived, and  she  was  secretly  making  a  new 
muslin  curtain  and  window-blind,  for  she  was 
determined  that  her  house  and  children  should 
soon  be  as  smart  as  those  of  the  new  tenants. 
She  gave  up  gossiping,  and  minded  her  own 
business;  and  soon  a  second  respect  able-looking 
cottage  appeared  in  the  Long  Row,  and  a  second 
church-going  family.  After  that  another,  and 
another,  and  in  less  than  six  months  many  of 
the  dwellings  became  so  altered  that  it  was  a 
question  which  looked  the  best.  But  still  one 
retained  its  dingy  and  miserable  appearance, 
the  cottage  where  Philip  resided,  whose  wife 
was  in  the  habit  of  going  to  the  pawnshop. 

Philip  was  not  one  of  the  best  of  men,  but, 
no  doubt,  his  wife  was  partly  the  cause  of  it. 
She  never  tried  to  make  his  home  comfortable. 
He  complained  that  his  wages  melted  away  like 
snow ;  he  could  never  tell  what  she  did  with 
the  money.  He  could  admire  the  clean,  neat, 
tidy  wife  of  his  neighbor,  and  was  grieved  to 
see  his  own  wife  such  a  dossy.  She  was  one  of 

108       ' 


OR,  JOHNNY'S  BOX.  13 

those  women  who  think  that  after  they  get  mar- 
ried it  does  not  much  matter  how  they  appear ; 
trailing  about  all  day  long  slip-shod,  with  hair 
uncombed,  dress  unfastened,  and  face  unwashed, 
and  altogether  anything  but  lovely.  But  all 
such  women  make  fatal  mistakes.  Men  like 
to  see  their  wives  look  pretty  as  when  they 
courted  them.  This  retains  their  affection,  and 
strengthens  their  love ;  but  it  is  impossible  for 
a  man  to  love  a  slut,  and  I  think  sluts  scarcely 
ever  get  a  kiss. 

A  few  weeks  since,  a  grown-up  boy  was  sent 
by  his  mother  to  request  I  would  call  and  see 
them,  for  they  were  starving,  and  wanted  help. 
I  knew  the  boy  and  his  mother.  On  entering 
the  house  I  found  everything  even  worse  than  I 
expected.  The  mother  was  gossiping  in  the 
next  house,  and  the  five  children  were  huddled 
round  the  hearth,  looking  the  picture  of  misery. 
All  lived  in  one  room,  and  slept  in  one  wretched- 
looking  bed;  there  was  only  one  small  table, 
three  chairs — not  worth  two  shillings — no  fen- 
der, and  the  house  floor,  and  the  children's 
faces,  looked  as  if  tljey  had  not  been  cleaned  for 
a  month. 

"  Where  is  your  mother  ?"  I  asked  of  the 
eldest  girl,  whom  I  took  to  be  about  twelve 
years  of  age. 

"  She  is  in  some  of  the  neighbor's  houses ;  I 

109 


14  MY  UNCLE  ; 

will  go  and  see  if  I  can  find  her,"  replied  the 
child    • 

While  the  sister  was  gone -to  seek  her  mother, 
I  asked  her  little  brother  where  the  sweeping- 
brush  was. 

"  We  have  none,"  he  answeerd. 

"  Well,  my  lad,  will  you  go  next  door  and  ask 
them  if  they  will  lend  me  a  long  brush.  Now, 
mind,  a  long  brush — not  the  hand-brush." 

The  little  fellow  stared  and  blushed,  but  did 
as  I  wished  him,  and  soon  returned  with  the 
long  brush.  I  had  just  begun  work  when  the 
girl  returned  with  her  mother. 

"  You  see  I  am  sweeping  up  these  bits  of  straw 
and  shavings,  Mrs.  Perhaps  you  will  let  your 
girl  wash  and  scour  the  hearth-stone,  will  you  ?" 

"  We  have  no  sand  or  stone,"  the  girl  replied. 

"  Well,  take  this  penny  and  fetch  a  small 
stone  and  some  sand ;  and  you,  my  girl,  will 
you  wash  your  hands,  arms,  and  face,  and  comb 
your  hair,  while  your  sister  goes  for  the  scour- 
ing §tone  ?" 

"  We  have  no  soap,"  replied  the  girl. 

"  No  soap !  then  take  this  twopence,  and  get 
half  a  pound  of  soap,  and  then  you  and  your 
two  brothers  and  sister  can  all  be  washed. 
When  were  you  washed  last?" 

"  On  Sunday,"  was  the  reply.  It  was  now 
Friday. 

no 


OK,  JOHNNY'S  BOX.  16 

While  the  washing  and  scouring  was  going 
on,  and  after  I  had  done  sweeping,  I  turned  to 
the  mother,  a  tall,  stout,  strong,  and  healthy 
woman^  who  was  looking  very  sheepish,  and 
said — 

"  Do  your  children  go  to  any  school,  Mrs.  ?" 

"  No,  none  of  them,  for  I  have  had  to  fasten 
all  their  decent  things  for  bread,"  she  replied. 

"  You  mean  you  have  taken  them  to  the 
pawnbroker  ?" 

-  Yes." 
'  And  is  that  all  the  bed  you  have  for  five  ?" 

"Yes." 

"And  where  are  the  blankets?  Have  you 
pawned  them  ?" 

"  Yes." 

The  sand  and  stone  were  soon  at  work,  and 
the  four  little  brothers  and  sisters  were  soaping 
their  hands,  arms,  and  faces  round  the  slop- 
stone,  out  of  the  porridge  pan,  for  the  elder  sis- 
ter had  the  mug  to  clean  the  hearth.  How 
their  faces  were  wiped,  I  must  not  tell,  only 
that  one  of  the  boys  wiped  his  on  his  mother's 
gown  as  she  stood  the  re - 

After  the  washing,  I  requested  them  to  comb 
their  hair,  and  divide  it  neatly  ;  but  the  eldest 
girl,  who  had  done  the  hearth,  and  was  now 
washing  her  face,  said, — 

"  We  have  no  comb." 

ui 


16  MY  UNCLE  ;    OR,  JOHNNY'S  BOX. 

I  took  one  out  of  my  pocket,  and  lent  it ;  but 
though  I  often  lend  combs,  I  always  refuse  re- 
ceiving them  back.  The  change  in  the  house, 
and  especially  amongst  the  shining  faces,  was 
marvellous.  Turning  to  the  mother,  I  asked 
how  many  things  she  had  in  pawn,  and  for  how 
much? 

"  I  have  both  clothes  and  furniture  in,  and 
some  of  the  tickets  are  sold." 

"  Well,  now,  I  will  call  to  see  you  again  in  a 
few  days,  and  if  I  find  your  house  and  you  and 
your  children  clean, — for  cleanliness  is  much 
cheaper  than  dirt, — I  will  buy  you  a  new  bed. 
Send  the  children  to  the  infant  school  now,  and 
I  will  pay  for  them.  In  fact,  if  you  will  do 
your  best,  I  will  be  your  friend." 

I  did  call  again  in  about  a  week  after,  but 
everything  was  as  bad  and  dirty  as  before.  The 
children  had  only  gone  to  the  infant  school  two 
days,  for  the  mother  would  not  take  the  trouble 
to  make  them  fit  to  go. 

I  left  the  house  with  a  sad  heart,  for  what 
hope  was  there  for  the  poor  innocent  children, 
— their  mother's  ignorance  and  idleness  were 
blasting  all  their  prospects  in  life.  When  a 
woman  begins  to  go  to  my  "  Uncle's,"  it  is  a 
poor  look-out,  and  it  would  be  well  if  the  chil- 
dren of  such  women  had  their  Sunday  clothes 
in  JOHNNY'S  Box. 
us 


Lfb'RARY 


HOIBLE  Iffi 


BY   JOHN    ASHWORTH. 


Fine  Edition,  Four  Series,  cloth,  limp.  The  First  and  Second, 
bound  in  one  volume,  cloth,  boards,  or  extra  cloth,  gilt 
edges,  with  steel  portrait  of  the  Author ;  also  Third  and 
Fourth  in  one  volume,  gilt  edges. 

These  remarkable  Tales  are  still  kept  as  Tracts,  of  vrhick 
nearly  Three  Millions  have  already  been  sold. 

FIRST  SERIES. 


1.  Mary;  a  Tale  of  Sorrow. 

2.  The  Dark  Hour.  [Men. 

3.  A  Wonder ;  or,   The  Two  Old 

4.  Sanderson  and  Little  Alice. 

5.  Wilkins.  [and  II. 
6*7.  The  Dark  Night.      Parts  I. 


8.  Joseph ;  or,  The  Silent  Corner 

9.  My  Mother. 

10.  Niffand  his  DORS. 

11.  My  New  Friends. 

12.  My  New  Friends. 

13.  My  New  Friends. 


Part  I 
Part  II. 
Pa.i  III. 


SECOND  SERIES. 


14.  Mothers.  [Prayer. 

15.  Twenty  Pounds ;  or,  The  Little 

16.  AH  is  Well. 

17.  My  Uncle;  or,  Johnny's  Box. 

18.  Old  Adam. 

19.  £llen  Williams. 


20.  Trials. 

21.  Answered  at- Last. 

22.  Priscilla.  [Step. 

23.  Julia;  or,   The   First    Wrong 

24.  No  Cotton. 

25.  My  Young  Ragged  Friends. 


THIRD  SERIES. 


26.  The  Lost  Curl. 
87-  Emroott. 

28.  The  Widow. 

29.  Sarah ;  or,  "  I  Will  have  Him ! ' 
BO.  My  Sick  Friends.    Part  I. 

81.  My  Sick  Friends.    Part  II. 


32.  George. 

33.  James  Burrows. 

34.  John  and  Mary. 

35.  A  Sad  Story. 

36.  Lucy's  Legacy. 

37.  Edmund. 


FOURTH  SERIES. 


«8.  The  Golden  Wedding. 
89.  William  the  Tutor. 

40.  Fathers. 

41.  Little  Susan. 

42.  Old  Matthew. 

43.  Old  Abe. 


44.  Milly. 

45.  The  Fog  Bell. 

46.  Mrs.  Bowden. 

47.  Happy  Ned. 

48.  Harry. 

49.  A  Dancer. 


WALKS    IN    CANAAN. 

By  same  Author.    304  gages,  with  7  full-page  illustrations.    Cloth,  o* 
extra  cloth,  gilt  edges. 


»"V'Mr.  Ashworth's  Tales  and  Books  are  above  my  praise;  they  ar« 
circulated  I  believe,  not  by  thousands,  but  by  millions,  and  the  result 
is,  that  the  name  of  John  Ash  worth  is  a  Household  Word,  not  only  in 
the  lordly  halls,  but  in  the  lowly  homes  of  England." — Dr.  Guthrie. 


